Too Essexy For My Shirt

Figured I ought to slow down the gallivanting and appreciate what's around me, because Essex is looking particularly handsome this Autumn with its new yellowy orange coat on. Castle Park, Marks Hall, even Essex Regiment Way all have a certain golden dignity about them.

So let's talk Essex:

Coggeshall
When I heard Baumann's had closed I was sad. But I went there and it's still the same. Apparently the old Head Chef has taken over, so aside from it being called Ranfield's (which is much easier to spell) it is the same. You should go. The food is awesome.

Fingringhoe
I saw a kingfisher. That makes the UK my third kingfisher country of the year. Fairly sure that's never happened before.

Colchester
I've been dabbling in Street Hunt. It is super geeky. Thought it would be right up my leafy boulevard but frankly, my knowledge of suburban Tendring is nowhere near good enough. Street Hunt, you have defeated me. 

Chelmsford
And this is the biggy. A bina fide box tick: I went to the horse racing. I didn't understand it. It just seemed to be people getting drunk and making decisions which resulted in them losing money. My complete lack of knowledge of (or interest in) horses probably didn't help. Still, box ticked.

Industrial Drinking

Another trip to South Wales and another opportunity to drink beer in industrial premises. It's starting to become a thing...

Bloomin' love Pontypridd. Gonna keep the blogging about it short because everything I did - rugby, faggots and peas in Ponty market, drink craft beer on an industrial estate - I've mentioned at some point before. But still, ace.

Also ace was The Ferryman. Everyone else has already told you to see it. They're correct. That is all.

Highway to Hull

"Pottsy, you're from North Hull mate. You're acting like you're from Swanland."

I went to Hull and it was ace. I went because of the Capital of Culture thing. That and the fact it's the biggest city in the UK that I've not been to. It was a whole heap better than I was expecting. 

Two main reasons for this:

1. We stayed at the Inkerman Tavern. A heavily muralled pub on the middle of an industrial estate, which was absolutely heaving on a Friday and Saturday night - it had a Duke of Sussex (Rest in Peace) vibe going on, and there's nothing wrong with that.

2. The Freedom Festival. The whole city came to life with a cross-art festival. There was modern dance, tight rope melodrama, Peruvian folk and child hairdressers - all of the main ones, right? And I saw Chiedu Oraka, leading light of the Hull hiphop scene - I now feel Hull enough to pass for an 01482head.

So yeah, I liked Kingston Upon Hull a lot, with its white phone boxes and its blue Fanta. With its enormous moths and its lack of cash points. The journey though, not so much.

Heading up on a Friday night was always going to be a bit rubbish but I was hoping that the journey back on a Sunday would be better. But we went to Grimsby for breakfast. Nothing against Grimsby itself but it's not pumping on a Sunday. And not many of the tyre shops are open on a Sunday. And there is a limited choice of breakfast on Grimsby industrial estates. And let's just leave it at that. Fair to say, could have been far worse.